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The human waiting in Swordspi
And it was also quickly apparent that this was not one of Tellian’s retainers who approved of hradani.
Lord Edinghas’ messenger snapped to his feet, his exhausted face taut with outrage, as soon as he laid eyes on Bahzell and Brandark. His bone-deep weariness had clearly undermined whatever normal reserve he might have, and he opened his mouth angrily. No doubt he intended to demand to know what Swordspi
But despite all of that, the man managed to clamp his jaws before his anger found words to express itself. Bahzell was impressed by the other man’s self-control. He doubted he could have matched it, had their circumstances been reversed. And he was suddenly glad he’d sent Gharnal off with Hurthang to alert the Order.
“Alfar Axeblade, be known to Prince Bahzell Bahnakson, son of Prince Bahnak of the Horse Stealer Hradani,” Swordspi
“Champion of Tomanak?“ Axeblade repeated. Despite all he could do, there was as much incredulity as surprise in his tone, and his weathered face flushed darker as he realized how he’d given himself away.
“Aye,” Bahzell rumbled, his deep voice measured and dispassionate. “And I’ll not blame you for feeling a mite … surprised, Master Axeblade.” He produced a wry smile. “I’m thinking you couldn’t possibly be more surprised than I was when Himself first turned up and told me as how such as I had the makings of a champion! Yet such I am, and if there’s aught I can be doing to serve you or Lord Warden Edinghas against the Dark, then that I will be doing.”
There was a tang of iron promise in his voice. Axeblade heard it, but so many centuries of mutual hatred couldn’t be washed away so quickly.
“I hope you’ll not take this wrongly … Milord Champion,” he said, after a moment. He seemed to have trouble getting the title out, as if the words were sharp-edged enough to cut his tongue. “But Warm Springs isn’t exactly what you might call the very heart of the West Riding. Often enough, news takes a while getting to us, and we’d not heard aught about you. So if I could be asking, what’s a hradani doing here?”
“And what’s a hradani doing pretending as he’s a champion of Tomanak, for that matter?” Bahzell added dryly, and Axeblade flushed again. But he also nodded stubbornly, and Bahzell chuckled.
“Master Axeblade,” Swordspi
“Let be, Sir Jahlahan,” Bahzell interrupted. The seneschal looked at him sharply, and the Horse Stealer shrugged. “In Master Axeblade’s place, I’d not be so polite,” he said dryly, and returned his attention to the other man.
“What I’m after doing here is just a mite complicated,” he said. “It’s glad enough I’ll be to explain it all to you, and to Lord Edinghas, assuming as how I have the opportunity. For now, let’s just be saying that Baron Tellian and I—aye, and my father, as well—are after doing what we can to be keeping our swords out of one another’s bellies for a change. That’s what I’m doing here at Hill Guard. But what you’re really asking, Master Axeblade, is why a Horse Stealer should be offering to help any Sothoii—or coming within a league or three of any courser ever born. Or, for that matter, why in the world you should be trusting such as me to do any such thing.”
“Aye, that I am,” Axeblade said after a moment. “Your folk aren’t named ’Horse Stealer’ for naught … Milord. And Tomanak Himself knows how many of our horses you’ve stolen, slaughtered, and eaten,” he continued, matching bluntness to bluntness, and Bahzell smiled more naturally. This man might hate hradani, but Bahzell recognized a kindred soul when he met one.
“That we have,” he acknowledged. “And, truth to tell, there’s more than enough of my folk as would cheerfully do the same, even now. But my father’s not after being one of them, and no more am I. We’ve done each other harm enough over the years, I’m thinking, Master Axeblade. Time we tried another road, one where neither of us is after raiding the other.”
Axeblade looked as if he found the entire concept impossible to grasp, but at least he was polite enough not to call Bahzell insane.
“I can’t be undoing all Horse Stealers are having done to the Sothoii,” Bahzell continued. “And no more can you—or Baron Tellian, himself—undo a single thing as Sothoii are having done to us. But if we’re to stop killing one another once and for all, I’m thinking as how it will have to start somewhere. So why not here, and now? And if it’s Tomanak’s little joke to choose such as me to be playing peacemaker to you Sothoii, then it’s little choice I have but to be doing the same for the coursers. Or do you think Horse Stealers are daft enough to think we could be after making peace with one and not the other?”
“That sounds mighty fine and reasonable, Milord,” Axeblade said in a tone he managed to keep neutral. “I’m not so very sure the coursers will think it does, though. They’ve long memories, too, you know.”
“So they do,” Bahzell agreed. “And I suppose it’s likely enough one of them might like to feel a little Horse Stealer crushed under his toes. Mind you, I’d not think it such a marvelous idea, but I can see how it might be having a little appeal for a courser. Still and all, Baron Tellian’s courser, and Hathan Shieldarm’s courser, have been after being civil enough.” He shrugged. “I’ll take my chances that other coursers will be being reasonable enough to give one of Tomanak’s champion’s time enough to at least be saying a few words in his own defense before they’re after turning him into Wind Plain mud.
“And whatever it is they may think about the notion,” he went on in a voice which was suddenly devoid of any humor at all, “what Sir Jahlahan’s told me of your tale is after leaving me no choice. I’ll not pretend I’ve any clear idea of who or what might have been able to do such as you’ve described. But this I do know, Master Axeblade—whoever, or whatever, it may be, it’s flat my business to be stopping it. And stop it I will.”
Axeblade started to say something more, then stopped, looking at Bahzell’s expression. Several seconds passed in silence, and then Lord Edinghas’ messenger nodded slowly.
“I believe you will, Milord Champion,” he said. “Or die trying, any road. To my mind, that’s the most anyone could ask of any man … human or hradani. So if you’re daft enough to ride into the middle of a holding full of Sothoii and coursers who’re none of them going to be happy to see hradani, now of all times, then I suppose I’m daft enough to take you there.”
“Take us there, you mean,” Brandark put in. Axeblade looked at him, and the Bloody Sword shrugged. “He’s not very bright, but he is my friend,” he said lightly. “I’d never forgive myself if I let him out without a leash and he suffered a mischief.”